The Earth Turns South/The Silver Way

by Clement Richardson Wood

THE SILVER WAY

I.You think to shut me out of your life,You smile upon me frostily,Cloaking the red flame of your loveIn black cloths of space and silence.You click the key in the reluctant lock,And pass softly to your single couch,Locking me out of your thoughts.

II.As long as you are anything,I shall find you . . . touch you.If you were shriveled to nothing,I would be the something cuddling it.

III.The wan wind of dawnTugs fitfully at your window,Thins into tiny openings,Swells laughingly throughout your morning chamber,And smoothes your rose-blown bodyAs you yawn, happily, Your welcome to day. . . .I am the wind.

IV.The loud golden sunlightTouches your hand in the shadowed gloom,Wakes it to rosy splendor. . . .It draws you slowly to the open window,And makes your lips a scented flame. . . .I am the sunlight.

V.The dew-dusted rosePowders its living perfume on you;You yield yourself to its clasp. . . .I am the rose.

VI.At the blank midnight,Under the restless seas of heaven,Where dim flotillas pitch,With golden-lanterned prowsAnd crimson stars at their sterns,A quiet moonbeam presses its silvery wayTo where you breathe and sleep. . . .I am the moonbeam.

VII.Silent you sleep—The black womb of the skyAches to push forth its silver child.

I am the thin sickle-edge of light,Cleaving the darkness to you.

I am the round silver eye,Rapt with your helpless beauty.

I am the golden arms stretched downFrom the late low moon,Lifting you.

It is the darkness. . . .And we are one.